Not So Imaginary
by Angie J Trifid
Summary: Almost an alternative ending. Fred isn't really gone from Lizzie's life. In fact, he's back, and now everyone else can see him, too! But there's danger lurking nearby. Something's after Lizzie, and Fred is determined to do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Quite fun, especially at the start, plot develops further in. Lots of FredxLizzie
1. Running Away

**A/N: Unfortunately I don't even have a copy of **_**Drop Dead Fred**_** yet, but I've seen it on YouTube. I don't usually mind any ending for films but the ending for **_**Drop Dead Fred**_** depressed (and slightly disappointed) me just a bit.**

**So in the middle of the night last night I wrote this… the time I wrote it explains why it leaves a fair bit to be desired, but I liked the ideas from some of the fanfics I've already read and thought I'd have a go for myself.**

**This was originally a one-shot but I decided to extend it because I wanted to get some more fun in there.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter One: Running Away**

To Lizzie it would only be a moment or two between Fred disappearing and her waking up. To Fred it was several minutes.

The world and their embrace melted away from him and he clutched at his own body. Imaginary Friends weren't usually around for long enough to still be someone's Imaginary Friend when they were grown up, but _he_ had. Not of his own choice, but still, he didn't regret it, although he'd done something very stupid along the way.

He'd started caring for Lizzie as though he was more than just an Imaginary Friend; and he wished, just a bit (even though he knew it was unfair and selfish), that she still needed him.

"_She does."_

Whether he heard the whispery, collective voices of many speaking as one, or simply understood it, Fred didn't think he would ever know. "Does what?" he asked to nothing in particular.

"_Elizabeth still needs you, but in a different way now."_

Fred blinked in surprise and mild confusion. "How?"

"_When adults have Imaginary Friends, they sometimes become dependent on them. That is how."_

Fred blinked again. "I can't exactly do anything about that anymore," he argued.

"_We cannot make you wholly human,"_ the whispery voices he either heard or understood said, _"but Elizabeth needs someone who is just human enough, and that is something we _can_ do. Although we cannot stop you from being an Imaginary Friend, we can make you visible to others. Do you wish to become real, Drop Dead Fred?"_

"Yes."

There was a pause before the voice said: _"Go to Elizabeth now: she is waking up."_

* * *

When Lizzie came to, she was lying on the floor of her apartment, on her own. Looking around, her face fell: Fred was not there.

He was gone.

She felt as though something was missing from her but steeled herself to face Charles. _You're just going to have to be your own Fred,_ she told herself, standing up and preparing to fetch the salad from the kitchen. Fred would have dumped it all over Charles' head: she was going to do what he would do.

As she was about to grab the salad bowl, though, she heard the doorbell ring. Charles left their bedroom and they both went to answer it, half-expecting it to be her mother at the door.

It wasn't.

Seeing Fred there, grinning, with his red hair wild as ever and his green suit relatively neat for once, she turned to Charles, expecting him to think some kids had been playing ding-dong-ditch. But instead, Charles said: "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Fred," Drop Dead Fred answered proudly. "Lizzie's friend. And I'm taking you both out to dinner."

"We've got dinner," Charles said firmly. Lizzie was in shock and essentially unable to say anything.

"Oh yes, romantic salad, how lovely," Fred replied, sarcasm evident in his voice. "Come on. I want to make it up for you for spoiling your dinner – or do I, you useless little snot?"

"Fred!" Lizzie exclaimed, surprised. It was sinking in now: _Charles could see Fred!_ "Charles, you can see him?"

"What are you talking about, honey? Of _course_ I can see him! He's standing right there! Are you feeling alright, Lizzie? Do you want to lie down?"

"But – Charles – this is –"

"I'm Drop Dead Fred," Fred interjected proudly.

"No you're not," Charles said. "Drop Dead Fred is imaginary."

Lizzie and Charles glanced at each other and when they looked back, Fred wasn't there anymore.

"Thank God that weirdo's gone," Charles said. "How much did you pay that guy to do that, Lizzie?"

"I didn't pay him, Charles. That was really –"

"Boo!" In a flash of green light, Fred appeared in front of the refrigerator. Charles jumped but Lizzie was used to it.

"Shit yourself?" Fred asked, sounding amused.

"This is really Drop Dead Fred, Charles," Lizzie said.

"Yeah," Fred said. "Come on Charlie, let's have dinner. I'll get something for you!"

He began rummaging around in the fridge and Lizzie laughed. She hoped she wasn't dreaming. She hoped Fred was really here, audible and visible to Charles. And she hoped he never stopped being Fred.

"If he's Drop Dead Fred, why can I see him?" Charles asked. Lizzie shrugged and Charles said, "What's going on here, Lizzie? Have you been seeing him behind my back?"

"Speaking of which," Fred said, suddenly appearing behind the two of them and wrapping his arms around their shoulders, "I believe we've got something to give you, _Charles_."

"What would that be?"

"Snotface? Would you do the honours?"

"I'd love to," Lizzie smiled. Then, just like Fred always did so affectionately to her, she stuck her finger into her right nostril, dug around, and wiped the contents all over Charles' face. Before Charles had a chance to react, she ducked out of Fred's arm and grabbed her bag, running out of the apartment.

Fred appeared next to her in the parking lot and they sat on the bonnet of Charles' car together. She knew he'd try to catch them up soon but if Fred was here she'd be okay.

"I still don't believe it," she whispered. "He could _see_ you."

"It's a new trick," Fred said back quietly. "I'm real now – not exactly human, but real."

"Why?"

"Cos They said you needed me."

"Who's They?"

"It's a tricky concept, Snotface. Some powers-that-be type of thing. If you want to go for a ride, I'll explain on the way. We could run away together like you promised, but for real this time."

Lizzie smiled. "I have to take care of a few things first."

"Then let's at least run away for tonight. Come on, Snotface. Before your useless husband catches up."

"I thought you were gone…" she whispered, her voice cracking as she forced back a sob.

"Me too."

Fred wrapped his arms around Lizzie and for a moment they sat together like that on the bonnet of Charles' car. Then they pulled apart, got in and began to drive.

* * *

Lizzie paid for a motel room that night and together they enjoyed one of the high points of Fred being real: dinner. They went down to a burger joint, trying not to spend too much money, and Fred promised to behave. On a couple of occasions he became invisible (to everyone but himself and Lizzie) and flicked snot into drinks or tripped the waiter up, but for the most part he was true to his word.

"This is really fun, Snotface," Fred said through a mouthful of food. "What's in the game plan for tomorrow?"

"I have to get my things back from the apartment and my mother's house," Lizzie answered, ticking off each point on her fingers. "And then I think I should get some divorce papers for Charles to sign. I think that's it."

"So we're finally going to defeat the Useless Husband and the evil Mega-Bitch?"

"I guess we are," Lizzie smiled. Grinning with satisfaction, Fred turned himself invisible and ran over to where some teenager was harassing a girl, pulling the teenage boy's trousers down to gleefully reveal boxers with little pink hearts all over them.

* * *

Later that night, they sat on the double-bed in the motel room, staring blankly at the television, which was switched off.

"I could sneak into the apartment and get your stuff for you tonight," Fred offered, but Lizzie suddenly threw her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. Surprised, he rubbed her back gently.

"Stay with me tonight," Lizzie begged. "I keep thinking I'm dreaming."

"Not a problem, Snotface," Fred replied, brushing some of her hair out of her face. "I won't leave if you don't want me to."

"I'm not losing you for another twenty-one years."

"You won't." Fred kissed her hair gently. "Without being a total girl, Lizzie, sometimes I think I could actually love you."

"I thought you hated love?" Lizzie asked, lifting her face to look at Fred, who shrugged.

"Not _love_, exactly. Romance makes me want to puke, though."

Lizzie giggled. Then she said, "Hey Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna check for cobwebs?"

Looking Lizzie dead in the eye, Fred chuckled deviously and threw the bed sheets over the pair of them, kissing Lizzie hard.

* * *

**A/N: I think that's probably the most explicit I'll get in this story. It's not focused on sex but for some reason I couldn't resist writing that in. I'll write more soon but I'm satisfied with this if it was a stand-alone story, too**


	2. Facing the Mega-Beast

**A/N: Yeah, I'm still here and no, sadly I don't own **_**Drop Dead Fred**_** – but I DO own this fanfic!**

**Hellionkyou: Thanks!**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Facing the Mega-Beast**

When Lizzie was a child, she would usually wake up in the morning because Drop Dead Fred was waking her up, having just thought of some kind of brilliant plan. Sometimes she would wake up of her own accord and he would be hanging from the ceiling like a bat, snoring softly or waiting for her to wake up, and she would hide a slight giggle.

On other mornings when she woke up by herself, after the particularly hard nights (usually when her parents had been fighting), Drop Dead Fred would not be hanging from the ceiling. He would always be asleep on those mornings, snoring softly like he did. Sometimes he would be kneeling beside her bed holding her hand, using his arm as a pillow, and on the mornings after the worst of these nights, Lizzie would wake up and Drop Dead Fred would be sitting on her bed with his back propped against the wall and his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, and he would still be cradling her. Sometimes she could still see her tear-stains on his clothes.

This time, however, it was obviously different. She woke up of her own accord in a motel room. At first she wasn't entirely sure whether or not the night before had been a dream. Morning sunlight shone almost pale-golden through the curtains which hid the large window leading to the outside world.

Lizzie was wearing her panties but no bra, and over her torso, she realised, was Fred's green suit jacket. Fred himself was asleep next to her, wearing his yellow shirt and underpants. She felt relieved, in a way: at least Fred hadn't really left. Memories of last night came flooding back and Lizzie found herself flinging her arms around her best friend _ever_, relieved she could actually talk to him in public now without seeming crazy.

Although some people might think she was crazy for talking to him, anyway.

"Mmm… Snotface?" Fred stirred, apparently woken up by Lizzie's affectionate actions. "What the –?"

"Morning," Lizzie said, smiling happily. Fred grinned at her.

"Good _morning_, Lizzie!" he exclaimed happily. "Ooh, about your plans for today, which one did you want to do first? I had this _great_ idea for…"

Lizzie sat back, smiling as Fred launched into a bit of a rambling scheme explanation and started to put his clothes back on. He was her best friend in the whole world. He was completely mad and she absolutely loved him for it. He was Drop Dead Fred. He was here. He was real. And she was lucky enough that he was all hers.

* * *

Fred waited in the car when Lizzie had collected the divorce papers, handed them to Charles and then collected her belongings from the apartment. He was slightly worried that Charles might somehow change her mind, but he doubted it would happen after they caught Charles still trying to cheat on her last night. Besides, the green pill would have a hard time making him go away now. That stupid doctor didn't know what he was doing. He was probably –

"Ready to go?" the sound of Lizzie's voice jerked Fred out of his thoughts. She was beaming, carrying a couple of cardboard boxes and a suitcase, all full, which Fred helped her stash in the trunk of the car.

"I got this brilliant idea," he said happily. "I already told you, didn't I? To scare the Mega-Beast?"

"You're going to sneak off and hide in the old empty Jack-in-the-Box, then I'll find you and open it and my mother will see you," Lizzie replied, smiling as they both got into the car. From the driver's seat, Lizzie leaned over to the backseat and kissed Fred. "Better hurry up and hide."

"Okie dokie," Fred said. Then he disappeared into green wisps of light which zoomed off toward her mother's house. Lizzie started the car and followed.

* * *

"Elizabeth!" her mother, Polly, cried, opening the bright red door to the house. "Charles phoned me last night and said you'd lost your mind! He seemed to think you were trying to leave him!"

She laughed. Lizzie walked into the house.

"I _am_ leaving him, mother."

That left her mother flabbergast. Lizzie began to walk upstairs to her room and her mother followed.

"But Lizzie – you spent so long trying to get him back, and –"

"And he carried on cheating," Lizzie interrupted, opening the door to her bedroom. She searched everywhere and found a cardboard box; then she began packing clothes and her old belongings into it. Her mother was begging her to "please see reason" but she ignored her, deliberately taking her time before "finding" the box Fred was hiding in. Her heart was beating hard and fast and the blood pounding in her ears made it easy to ignore what her mother was saying. She was feeling just far too excited for words.

"Please don't be messing with me," Lizzie whispered under her breath, heading for the closet where Fred said he would put the box. She felt around for it and he must have pushed it toward her palm, because she swore it slid into her grip. Then she pulled the box down. Fred had re-taped it shut.

"Do you… do you remember this box, mother?" she asked. Her mother stared in something like horror.

"Of – of course not."

"Really? Because I could swear it's the same box you taped Drop Dead Fred in when I was little." Lizzie fought off the urge to giggle. She knew she and Fred were going to pretend like he'd never escaped and they were being reunited before her mother. She couldn't wait and it was all she could do to stop herself from tearing the box open right now.

"Give me the box," Polly commanded in a forced-calm voice, holding out her hand.

"But since I'm obviously crazy," Lizzie continued, "there's no way anything could possibly happen if I open it up. You took Fred away from me. I wonder if he's still waiting."

"Elizabeth, I am not playing games here."

"Neither am I," Lizzie replied. "You think Fred isn't real, so what's the harm in opening it?"

"Fine," Polly sighed. "If it will end this madness, then by all means, open the box. But there is no –"

Lizzie tore the fresh tape from the lid of the box and carefully pulled it open, scared of something happening but also scared of something _not_ happening.

Both women jumped when a small green ball shot out of the box, bouncing around the room and screaming with glee before coming to a stop under Lizzie's bed.

"What in the hell was that?" Polly asked, kneeling down to examine the floor for the green ball. Lizzie grinned, knowing full-well that Fred was no longer under the bed. Still, she went along with it.

"Do you see it, mother?" she called, trying not to laugh. Fred materialised on top of the bed, silently gesturing like mad for her to pretend to check under the bed as well – so she did.

"There's nothing down here," Polly said. They both sat back on their knees. "Honestly, Elizabeth, what's gotten into you lately? There _is no_ Drop Dead Fr–"

"Hiya, Snotface!" Fred shouted from behind Lizzie, who started (she hadn't exactly been expecting him to do that). Polly screamed.

"Who are _you_?" she demanded. "What are you doing in my house?"

"Oh, a fine question, I'm sure," Fred replied. "You should know, considering you kept me trapped in that stupid box for twenty-one years while Snotface here grew up and got married to some idiot who doesn't respect her!"

Realisation spread across Polly's face. "Drop Dead Fred?"

"That's right! I'm back! It takes more than a box and some pills to keep _me_ down!" Fred picked up the cardboard box full of the possessions Lizzie was rescuing from her mother's house and said, "Come on Lizzie, let's go."

Lizzie's mother blocked her way, demanding, "_Where_ do you think _you're_ going?"

"I'm following Drop Dead Fred – who is _real_ – out of this house, into the car and to somewhere we can go to figure out what to do next," she replied, planting her feet. Fred shot her a thumbs-up over Polly's shoulder, then nearly dropped the box and had to put his hand back on it again, shrugging but smiling.

"You aren't going anywhere," Lizzie's mother said. "This is ridiculous. You can't run off with some imaginary person you knew as a child! He's not even –"

Fred tapped Polly on the shoulder and when she turned around he said in a small, friendly voice, "Hello!"

Polly looked about ready to faint.

"You don't scare me anymore, mother," Lizzie told Polly, following Fred down the stairs. "But don't worry – I'll call you when we figure something out!"

"You can't go!" Polly cried, almost pleading. "I'll… I'll be lonely."

Casting a glance at Fred, whose reply-glance read "just do it", Lizzie strode up to her mother and hugged her briefly. "You should try getting a friend," she said. Then she turned and left, taking Fred's outstretched hand as he balanced the box between his side and left arm.

"Where can _we_ go to figure out what to do next?" Fred asked as they packed away the cardboard box. Lizzie paused, biting her lip, and sat in the driver's seat of the convertible. Fred slid into the passenger's seat.

"I know you don't like him," she said hesitantly, "but I think we should go see Mickey Bunce."

"Mickey Fartpants?" Fred pulled a face. Then he smiled and said, "Yeah, alright."

They grinned at each other and Lizzie started the car up.


	3. Mickey Fartpants

**A/N: The last chapter was really fun to write. Disclaimer is a given. I just like typing out and thinking the words DROP DEAD FRED. They go so well together**

**Longer chapter than last time but I got a bit carried away. On with the show…**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Mickey Fartpants**

"I hope he doesn't mind," Lizzie said as they turned onto Mickey's street. "I mean, us just turning up like this. Maybe we should've called ahead."

"Nah, it'll be fine," Fred replied dismissively. "Besides, no wasting time now. One of my friends – the one from the doctor's place – just got transferred to his daughter the other week – you know, when you were taking the green pills." Lizzie cringed, upset with herself. Fred, to distract her, added in his whiniest voice, "_I wanna stop by and see him_!"

"Really? Which one of your friends? I didn't see anyone there."

"It was – wait. You _didn't_ see anyone?"

"Nope."

"Oh well. Hey, you ring the doorbell and I'll step out of sight while he answers the door. Then introduce me and I'll jump in front of you and call him a Fart –"

"Fred. Don't call Mickey names. He's been very nice to me recently."

"Yeah, and he's better for you than Stupid Useless Charlie," Fred grumbled.

"What?" Lizzie asked as they pulled up.

Fred held his hands up defensively. "Nothing! All I'm saying is that, if I hadn't of come back, you should've run away with _him_. Mickey, I mean. Not Charlie."

"Aww. You're sweet."

"Yuck." Fred pulled a face and Lizzie giggled a bit. Then she got out of the car and walked up to Mickey's house.

* * *

When Mickey heard the doorbell ring, the last person he was expecting to see was Lizzie.

"I'm finally doing it," she told him. "I'm leaving Charles and my mother. I just don't know what to do next."

"That's great," Mickey told her. "Good for you. Would you like to come in?"

He stepped aside. Lizzie took a step forward and then stopped. "Oh. Mickey, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

"Yeah?"

"Well… don't think I'm crazy, but, do you remember Drop Dead Fred?"

"Of course I do."

"He came back."

"I know," Mickey laughed slightly, smiling. "Your mother told me."

"No, I mean – well, yeah, but I mean it differently… Mickey… uh, this is Drop Dead Fred."

Fred stepped into the doorway and waved, grinning, at Mickey; but he held his tongue so he wouldn't call Mickey any names that might get him into trouble with Lizzie.

For a moment Mickey gave them a confused look; then he said "Okay" and invited them in. Fred and Lizzie both knew he didn't entirely believe Drop Dead Fred was _really_ sitting on the couch talking to him, but they also both knew he'd believe it more than anyone else. Perhaps it was because he lived with his daughter, Natalie.

Lizzie began to explain what happened and Fred stared around the room. It was a lot more home-y than the Mega-Beast's house. Or the apartment Lizzie shared with Charles, actually. He liked the house; it was pretty alright. With his previous charges, the houses were sometimes alright and sometimes all show like Lizzie's, but he didn't think he'd been anywhere this home-y before. It was nice.

"Well…" Mickey said when the story was over. He sounded almost too stunned for words. "I – I'm sorry, Lizzie – Fred – I'm just not sure what to make of this."

"I know," Lizzie said quietly. "I just thought you might actually believe me. My mother and Charles both thought I'd paid Fred to pretend to be Drop Dead Fred."

"You have no idea how incredibly _weird_ that sounds," Fred muttered under his breath.

"I know," Lizzie whispered back.

Mickey chuckled lightly. "No, I don't think you paid anyone to dress up and pretend to be Drop Dead Fred… no offense," he added, looking directly at Fred.

"None taken," Fred replied. "I probably wouldn't want to dress up and pretend to be me, either."

"It just all sounds so strange…" Mickey trailed off, probably unsure what to say next.

"I know it does," Lizzie said. For a while they sat in silence; then Mickey said:

"Hey! Lizzie, remember I told you about my little girl?"

"Natalie?"

"Yes. I think she's playing in her bedroom. Would you like to meet her?"

"Uh… okay."

"Great," Fred said happily, flinging an arm around Lizzie's shoulders.

"Okay then." Mickey left the room and they heard him calling for his daughter. Fred and Lizzie looked at each other and grinned.

"Here she is," Mickey said, leading Natalie into the room. She was a small girl with long blonde hair and a couple of front teeth missing. There was paint on her face, but not much. "Sorry she's a little scruffy. She's been painting. Natalie, honey, this is Lizzie and –"

"Drop Dead Fred!" screamed another person, making Lizzie jump. He had short black hair and wore an orange shirt.

"Velcrohead!" Fred cried. Natalie grinned.

"Velcro-who?" Lizzie asked. "Fred, is that one of your friends?"

Removing his arm from Lizzie, Fred looked at her in surprise. "You mean you can _see_ him?"

Lizzie looked around. "Not anymore."

"Hang on." Fred grabbed Lizzie's hand. "What about now?"

Lizzie looked at Velcrohead, who waved at her.

"Yes. I can see him now."

Fred cackled wildly. "Brilliant!"

"Excuse me, but do you mind if I ask what you're talking about?" Mickey asked. Fred stood up and Lizzie could no longer see or hear Velcrohead talking to Natalie.

"I've got an idea," Fred told Mickey. "I think it'll work anyway. Because, you're having a hard time believing I'm Lizzie's old Imaginary Friend, right?"

"Well, I wouldn't use those words exactly…"

"Tell you what. Don't freak out. Natalie, please describe your new Imaginary Friend for your daddy."

"Well… he's called Velcrohead and he's very funny, and he looks like this!" Natalie held up a crayon drawing of her and Velcrohead, which she'd been holding behind her back.

"Perfect," Fred said. "Now, Mickey, I want you to promise me you won't freak out or call the police or start screaming or take us all to the psychiatrist's or anything like that."

"Uh… okay."

"Fantastic. Look over there, please." He indicated to where Velcrohead was standing. When Mickey Fartpants looked over, Fred clapped his hands onto Mickey's shoulders. He watched with a lot of amusement as Mickey's eyes widened. When he removed his hands, Mickey seemed to go into a state of almost-shock. Lizzie was left to calm him down and re-explain things while Fred went to talk to Velcrohead and Natalie. They sat on the floor to talk.

"Fred, why'd you do that?" Velcrohead asked.

"Cos otherwise he wouldn't believe me, _durr_!"

"Wait, you can see him?" Natalie asked. When Fred nodded, she said, "No-one else but me can see Velcrohead. How come you can?"

"Well, it's because I'm an Imaginary Friend too, and Imaginary Friends can all see each other," Fred explained.

"Yeah, but I heard what happened," Velcrohead said. "All the others did too. Fred got turned real so everyone else can see him when he wants, but he still gets to keep all his powers. So he could get a _girlfriend_."

Velcrohead's tone gave off disgust, but the look in his eyes told Fred that Velcrohead was actually happy for him. They both remembered how some of the slightly more mature, more _girly_ Imaginary Friends had giggled when he walked past and had a crush on him, but he'd never been too interested. He'd never really said he wanted a girlfriend, and especially not one of _those girls_, but some of his own friends had tried to get him interested. Occasionally it paid, they said, to have some balance between charges and a life of your own.

"Yuck," Natalie complained, pulling a face.

"Yeah," Velcrohead agreed. "Fred, did you get superpowers or something when They turned you real? I wasn't paying much attention but I think you could make Lizzie and Mickey see me."

"If they're superpowers I only just discovered them," Fred answered. "Anyway, what's going on with you?"

"Are you guys just gonna sit here and talk?" Natalie asked.

"Yeah… sorry Nat-flap," Velcrohead answered. He had invented that nickname for her after a rather Fred-inspired prank involving a rather horrid babysitter, some substances including dog poo (among other things), and a cat-flap. "But tell you what: when the next babysitter comes 'round, we'll pull off the biggest prank in the history of ever!"

"Really?"

"Yeah. We've got Fred to help us think now, and he's the best pranker-thinker-upper I know."

"Okay. Tell you what…"

Lizzie and Mickey (who was slowly calming down from shock and who had nearly fainted) watched as Fred began sharing conspiratorial whispers with Natalie – and, they supposed, Velcrohead.

"Should we stop them?" Mickey asked. "I can't lose another babysitter."

"No," Lizzie answered. "Trust me; _always_ let Fred go through with one of his pranks once he thinks them up. He's even worse if you don't let him do it. He can't hold them in."

She knew this, of course, from personal experience. She remembered it all too well…

* * *

It had been the first of _those mornings_, as she and Fred began to call them. The mornings after her parents had been fighting. It hadn't been too bad the night before, by her parents' standards, as she'd told Fred, but it had still upset her and it was the first time she'd ever seen Fred launch full-force into his Serious Mode.

He wanted to distract her; wanted to make her feel better. Wanted to _help_ her. He was Fred, after all. It was what he did. At first he had been a bit surprised but after a couple of moments he had sat with Lizzie and started to tell her a story. She'd wanted to hear about where he came from and he'd told her one of the fairy stories they had where he came from. Sometimes there were princes and princesses, he'd explained, in their fairy stories, and because she was so upset he'd told her a princes-and-princesses story. He didn't like those stories, but Lizzie needed to hear something that would comfort her.

The morning after, the first of _those mornings_, Lizzie was surprised to find that Fred hadn't woken her up and he wasn't asleep on the ceiling. She sat upright and was going to call out for him when a soft snore to her left caught her attention. When she looked, she saw her best friend, Fred. Not Drop Dead Fred. He was never imaginary to her (no matter how much others insisted) and now he seemed especially like a normal person.

His feet were tucked underneath him as he knelt a little awkwardly on the floor, leaning heavily on her bed. His left arm was curled against the bed sheets and he seemed to be using it as a pillow; and his right hand was holding her left. He'd sat with her last night, long after the fighting had stopped, and held onto her hand (she wouldn't let go) and promised to stay awake all night to protect her from the Big Bad Mega-Beast. He hadn't managed to stay awake all night, she knew, but he'd managed long enough that she couldn't remember him falling asleep.

Lizzie eased her hand out of his, climbed silently out of bed and, with the innocent tenderness children possess when they're looking after someone they care about, she wrapped the bed sheets around him and tip-toed out of the room.

"No Drop Dead Fred this morning?" her mother asked as soon as she realised Lizzie had come quietly downstairs for breakfast. Lizzie and Fred usually caused a racket coming down the stairs and they normally talked a while before they got up, so Polly Cronin was surprised her daughter had been so quiet in waking up today.

"He's asleep," Lizzie answered. "He stayed awake all night to protect me."

"Protect you from what?" Polly asked.

Lizzie didn't answer but she and her father shared a knowing glance.

When Fred woke up later on (after chucking the sheets back on the bed and thanking Lizzie for looking after him, although he was disappointed he'd missed the opportunity to muck about during breakfast), he began scheming. Lizzie had been upset by her parents' fighting and he wanted to get them for it. Well, mostly Polly. He liked Nigel, Lizzie's father. Nigel was alright. He was just a bit of a pushover.

Fred finally devised his most brilliant, evil, devious, cunning prank ever a full week after the fight. It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was his pride and joy.

And Lizzie wouldn't let him do it.

"Why _nooot_?" he complained in his whiniest voice. Lizzie had given him an odd look.

"We _can't_ do that to my mom," Lizzie had reasoned.

"You let me do all those other pranks!"

"You'll get in trouble!" Lizzie _never_ wanted to see Fred get in trouble. It was the same reason she didn't want to tell the police "Drop Dead Fred did it" when they had burglarised the house.

They were best friends and she was only trying to look out for him, like he did to her. After _that morning_, she realised she wanted to be the sort of friend to Fred as he was to her: she wanted him to think she was great fun, but she wanted to look out for him at the same time, like he always did.

The problem was that she hadn't realised how Fred got when he couldn't pull off one of his pranks. At first he tried to talk her out of it; then he sulked; then he cried and threw a tantrum; then he was suspiciously calm. She asked why but he didn't tell her: she found out later anyway.

Her mother never _did_ manage to get all those stains out of the carpet – in the end she had to buy a new one.

* * *

Lizzie laughed at the memory and told Mickey, who joined in.

"I can still remember a few of Fred's schemes, you know," Mickey laughed. "If he manages to pull this prank off, I don't think I'll ever be able to hire a babysitter again."

"I could babysit for you," Lizzie offered.

"Really?"

"Yeah – Fred and I aren't sure what we should do next. Besides, I can put up with his pranks, and I'm sure he'd love the chance to keep visiting his friend."

"Lizzie, you're the best," Mickey said, hugging her, which felt more than a little awkward for her, but she still smiled just a little.

"Maybe you should let him pull off his prank first, though," Lizzie said.

"Sure, sure. Hey, why don't I take the two of you out to dinner tonight? The babysitter's coming over anyway and I'd love to catch up a bit more. Maybe we could figure out what you're doing. You've got a lot of options now, Lizzie," Mickey added quietly. "I just want to put it out there that I'd like to be one of them. I mean, I know you like Fred a lot, but I don't wanna miss out on having fun with Betsy again."

"Mickey," Lizzie said, in a mock-annoyed voice.

"Did I hear right?" Fred asked after a moment, suddenly appearing between the two of them and making them both jump. "We're all going out for dinner and you're calling in the babysitter?"

"Well…" Mickey stammered. "I – guess so. Yes."

"What!? That means there's only…" – Fred tried to count it out on his fingers – "_some_… hours left to set up our prank! Come on Velcrohead, Natalie, we have to move fast!"


	4. Lizzie's New Life Begins

**A/N: Chapter four and I am LOVING writing a Drop Dead Fred fanfiction**

**That's right, FANFICTION. I don't claim to own it**

**The flashbacks are fun to write – oh, and also I got a copy of **_**Drop Dead Fred**_** recently**

**Big shout out to my friend G, who was doing a Drop Dead Fred role-play with me and that's where I got some ideas for some of this chapter from!**

**Also, there's a blatant (if you've seen it) **_**The Young Ones**_** reference in here… I've started writing most of my chapters longer than I used to but this chapter feels a bit like filler… I'm sure a plot will come soon**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Lizzie's New Life Begins**

The only time Lizzie had ever gone out to dinner with her parents before Fred's arrival, it had not gone too well. Luckily she never remembered much of it.

Once, she went out to dinner with her parents when Fred was with her. Although she didn't remember much of it, she remembered that Fred had put food in her mother's hair and spilt drink all over her mother's dress for criticising Lizzie about not wanting to eat the grown-up food and vegetables.

This time, however, Fred had been visible. He'd restrained himself nicely – again, for the most part – although he'd disappeared back off to Mickey's house when Velcrohead had called him to tell him the prank was about to happen. Lizzie had later on asked how Imaginary Friends contacted each other over long distance and Fred told her it was one of those things you can do but you can't explain, like knowing what a certain word means.

Mickey had offered to let them stay at his house until they figured out something more long-term. The attic, he explained, had been converted into a spare bedroom because they didn't have a spare of their own. He offered to let them stay in the spare room as long as they looked after Natalie (and Velcrohead). Fred, as it turned out, was a bigger fan of the idea than Lizzie had been expecting; but like he told her later, he liked the home-y-ness of the Bunce house.

Besides, it was cheaper than a motel room.

The attic-room was big. Of course it was; it was in the attic. The roof slanted above their heads but there were windows with blinds above them. The trapdoor had unfolding steps, of course, but a wall with a door had been constructed to make it feel more like a room – even if, like in the apartment Lizzie used to share with Charles, the walls didn't go all the way up (there was a small gap near the peak of the roof).

The floor was mostly wood, but it was thick and sturdy, and there were several rugs on the floor, mostly thick and fluffy. The double bed was opposite the wall lengthways and directly underneath one of the overhead windows. A couple of lamps were spread about the room to give light when it was dark, but the windows gave plenty of natural light during the daytime.

That night, Fred and Lizzie sat on opposite sides of the foot of the bed like awkward newlyweds in the soft glow of the lamp on the night stand. Lizzie had not taken many clothes with her when she'd ditched Charles and she regretted that the pyjamas she'd taken with her were neither interesting nor sexy. Just plain. She'd made a note to get herself some more clothes in the morning.

"I've never seen you wear pyjamas," Lizzie said suddenly, catching a glance of Fred in the full-length mirror by the dresser (and cardboard boxes). "You normally just sleep in your suit. Even when I was a child."

Fred wore a green button-up pyjama top with yellow bottoms and bright red slippers. He smiled a little bit. "I still get my own choice of clothes. It's one of the perks of being an Imaginary Friend."

"Are there drawbacks?"

"Sometimes. Like it can be really upsetting seeing your charge getting in trouble because even if you stick up for them, they're the only one who can hear you. But usually pulling a good prank or two makes up for it."

"That was genius tonight, by the way. It's a good thing Mickey's got great babysitters like us, or he'd never get another babysitter ever again."

"Ah, it was nothing. Just a little something I'd originally cooked up for Charlie-boy."

Lizzie laughed and wrapped her arms around Fred. Still laughing, she kissed the side of his neck and the two of them fell back onto the bed, Fred kicking his slippers off.

They made love for real that night. There was none of the crazed giddiness of Fred being real; none of the adrenaline of leaving Charles. There was just Fred and Lizzie, two real people who really cared for one another. Neither knew if they could use the word _love_ in the sense of having fallen in love just yet, but both supposed it would happen. They fell asleep gazing up at the stars together.

* * *

When Lizzie woke up she couldn't see Fred. She could see his slippers abandoned by the bed and swore she heard him breathing, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A note lay on the pillow next to her; she picked it up and read it with an almost greedy look in her eyes. In green crayon, Fred had written, in an almost childish scrawl:

_Dear Snotface,_

_I don't know if you'll be able to see me in the morning. I exhausted a lot of my powers and energy with that prank last night – and with you. Just wanted to let you know I'm still here, but I'll probably be taking a nap when you get up and my visibility might be temporarily gone. Don't know how long it'll last._

_I'm still new to being part-real and I'm only just discovering all the new stuff but I reckon I should be up and visible again by midday. See you then._

_Fred._

_X_

Lizzie smiled gently to herself. It must have taken Fred a while to write that note in his own childish handwriting. But she was pleased he'd written it. Carefully, she reached out to the supposedly-empty space next to her in the bed, touching only thin air – and then her hand made contact with something solid. It was Fred's arm, she realised, as he slowly materialised before her, green wisps of light at first which formed his shape and then turned into Fred. He was still a little see-through.

He lay fast asleep on his side, facing her, his chest rising and falling gently. His lips were just slightly parted and a soft snoring sound came from between them. His eyelids twitched when she touched his arm but he remained asleep. Lizzie leaned over to kiss his temple and then got up. He faded back into thin air when she lost contact with him, but she swore she could still hear him breathing. Again, she smiled to herself. Then she dressed in a loose white shirt and brown trousers with suspenders, and headed to the rest of the house.

"Did you sleep well?" Mickey asked. He was cooking breakfast while Natalie sat at the table rubbing her eyes and yawning. There were still hints of chocolate on her skin from part of the prank last night.

"Yes, thanks," Lizzie said, sitting down next to Natalie. "Fred's still asleep. He's exhausted." Then, in a quiet voice, she added, "He _disappears_ when he's drained of energy."

"That's so cool," Mickey said. Then he turned to Natalie. "Natalie, I know you had fun last night, but I don't think you and Velcrohead should pull big pranks like that on Lizzie and Drop Dead Fred. They were _masters_ when we were younger. I'd dread to think how a prank war between the four of you would turn out."

Lizzie and Natalie giggled. Lizzie thought she might've also heard Velcrohead laugh.

"Got any plans for today?" Mickey asked. "Apart from letting Fred sleep?"

"I have to get myself some more clothes," Lizzie said. "But I might put it off until later. I don't want to leave Fred on his own."

"Don't worry about it," Mickey replied. "You go take care of him. I have to get Natalie to school anyway, and then I'll go to work. I'll leave you the spare key."

Lizzie smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

"Hey! I have to ask you something!"

In his dreamland, Fred had the option to have a dream or to control his environment to the detail. Right now, he wanted to talk to Them – and as an Imaginary Friend, it was something he could do.

"_That is natural, Fred. You are experiencing something new and have questions._"

"Can't I talk to you in person? Or to a face?"

Suddenly, Fred was in what looked like the drawing room of a student flat in London in the early 1980s, sitting on a bright red sofa next to a spotty punk with a bright ginger tri-hawk and four stars on his forehead.

"_What questions do you have?_" asked the punk, in Their voices.

"I won't suddenly disappear or die or something, will I?"

"_No._"

"Will I be invisible when I wake up?"

"_You lose your visibility when you are drained of either energy or power. You will be visible again once you recharge._"

"How come I could make Lizzie and Mickey see Velcrohead?"

For a while Fred sat on that red sofa, questioning Them through the ginger punk, who at last said, "_Some things are best discovered in time, Fred. As you continue through your new life as a real person, you will grow stronger and gain more energy. We will be here if you require assistance, but though you are inquisitive, try to discover some of these things on your own. You should probably wake up now. Elizabeth is waiting for you._"

* * *

When Fred opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Lizzie's face. She was resting her chin on the pillow next to him, watching him wake up and smiling at him. "Feeling better?" she asked quietly.

"Much," he grinned, and it wasn't even remotely untrue. He wasn't sure how many questions he'd asked Them, and he couldn't in truth remember all of his questions or the answers, but somewhere within himself he felt reassured. There was an air of permanence about his situation: about Lizzie.

"Good," Lizzie said, her smile widening just a bit. "You look less tired now. You must've slept well."

Fred sat up. His body was tired and a bit stiff. "Maybe a bit _too_ well."

"Welcome to the world of real people, Fred. Everyone gets that way sometimes. Don't worry about it."

"Lizzie?"

"Yes?"

"I never thought I'd see the day when _you_ were telling _me_ not to worry about something."

Lizzie giggled and Fred hopped out of bed, stretching as far as he could.

* * *

They had lunch together and then Lizzie took the spare key and some of the cash she'd taken with her; then she picked up the keys to Charles' convertible and asked Fred if he wanted to go to the mall with her.

"You might not like it, though," she warned him. "I'm just getting myself some new clothes."

"I'm going," Fred told her. "We always do everything together."

"Okay – but could you please wear something other than your suit? _Please_? Just to – you know – blend in a bit."

"Oh, alright," Fred replied, rolling his eyes just a bit.

* * *

When they arrived at the mall, Lizzie was wearing the clothes she'd dressed in earlier, and Fred wore his red shoes with faded denim jeans that were just slightly tinted green, a pale yellow t-shirt and a green jacket. Lizzie doubted the colour scheme of his clothes was ever going to change, but she wasn't complaining. He always made whatever he was wearing look natural on him.

"Where to first?" he asked quietly. Fred had never really liked shopping much, and shopping malls sometimes gave him sensory overload if he didn't have something to focus on, but he and Lizzie always did everything together. Still, he wanted it over and done with as quickly as possible.

"Patience, Luke," Lizzie teased softly. "Anywhere that sells clothes will be fine."

And so Lizzie Cronin and Drop Dead Fred managed to waste an afternoon – which went quicker than he was expecting – picking up clothes for Lizzie. He gave her as much advice as he could: "_Yuck_, who'd wanna wear _that_?"; "Lizzie, if you even _touch_ that thing, I'm taking you to get your head checked!"; "That one looks more like a big bruise than the dress you wore to the Charlie party."; "No, Snotface, we're staying out of this shop! The clothes in there are the same kind your mother wears!"; and the occasional "Bloody hell, Lizzie! You look great in that – for a girl…" summed up his clothes-shopping advice pretty well.

Working together, they found clothes that were normal for Lizzie to wear; ones that she always wanted to wear but Charles or her mother had never let her; and even some things that were outside of her comfort zone. However, it seemed that like usual, Fred knew what would be best for her. Just as he sometimes used to chop her hair off in the night so it could be cut shorter and look better on her, he knew which clothes she'd look good in and which ones would end up in the back on her closet. He wouldn't let her get anything that didn't suit her, either.

Fred didn't mind the mall too much overall, mostly because he'd had a focus. Waiting idly while Lizzie changed into some of her new clothes in the public restrooms made him a little uncomfortable, though, especially when a group of high school girls – probably only seventeen, tops, he decided – began to stare at him and giggle. He was grateful for Lizzie's return.

She wore something he had picked out for her; they'd had a bet on that he couldn't pick out something good for her to wear. She totally owed him three cookies.

He had picked out a gold strappy top with thick, diagonal scarlet stripes, the largest of which stretched from her left shoulder to her right hip, the others running paralell. To go with the shirt, he'd chosen a pair of dark trousers that weren't too loose but didn't hug her figure either, and a pair of doc martens.

"You look bloody brilliant," he said. As they turned to leave, grinning at each other, they heard somebody call her name.

"Lizzie, right?"

They turned.

"Annabella?" Lizzie asked.

Standing before them was the curly-haired blonde woman Charles had cheated on Lizzie with. Lizzie might have tried to get Charles back, but she realised she didn't resent Annabella. Fred was right: the problem with her marriage was that she had thought she loved Charles, but she'd never been _happy_ with him. She felt Fred give her shoulder a small squeeze and felt happier than she had with Charles for a long time.

"Look, I'm sorry about Charles," Annabella said, walking up to Lizzie and Fred. "When I met him, he told me you were this mousey girl and all these other things. I didn't realise until the other day what a manipulative jerk he was to not just you, but _me_ as well. So when I recognised you just now, I thought I should tell you I've told him he can get lost."

"I told him the same thing," Lizzie said. "No hard feelings. I'm glad I'm rid of him. I gave him divorce papers yesterday."

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks."


	5. Pirates

**A/N: sadly, I don't own **_**Drop Dead Fred**_

**Nowheredoll: Thanks so much**

**This chapter has another shout-out to G, cos again I got a little bit of the idea from my RP with her**

**Chapter Five: Pirates**

* * *

As they arrived back home from the mall, Fred was recovering from a delayed-reaction bout of sensory overload which had hit him in the car, so Lizzie forced him to sit down and watch television while she put her new clothes away and fixed herself a sandwich (which he stared at like a starving puppy until she offered him a bite) and fetched the cookies she owed him for winning the bet.

For a while, they half-watched the TV as they plotted against Charles and Polly. Later, Mickey arrived home with Natalie and Velcrohead, both of whom joined in on the plotting, although Fred had to keep his arm around Lizzie so she could see and talk to Velcrohead. Halfway through the conversation a thought occurred to Lizzie: a thought that she should be as wild, crazy and fun of a babysitter to Natalie as Fred had, in his Fred-like way, been to her.

* * *

They did not make love that night. Although there was still wonder in their new change to relationship, there were new things on the horizon, too. For example, Lizzie's divorce with Charles became official that day, and she was finally free from him. She phoned the apartment to tell him not to bother with court: all she wanted was to keep the car. He agreed and to celebrate, Fred had thrown Lizzie over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and then dumped her into a mud puddle Natalie and Velcrohead had made with the garden hose. Lizzie had been annoyed that she'd had to wash mud out of her hair, but she'd been wearing her old clothes and didn't mind the excuse to throw them out.

That night, Lizzie lay in bed with Fred already asleep next to her. He had bed head already and one arm was thrown around her waist as his head lay on the pillow, his cheek pressed against his own shoulder while he snored lightly. Smiling to herself at the warmth she felt coming from him, Lizzie reached over to the lamp on the end table next to her side of the bed (even though they shared the middle, she always lay on his right) to switch it off. As she did, she caught sight of the wedding and engagement rings Charles had given her, and decided to do something she hadn't done in years; something she'd fought to avoid before Fred came back to stay.

That night, Lizzie slept without her engagement and wedding rings on.

* * *

When Mickey was going to bed, he found a piece of paper lying on the kitchen table. He'd forgotten about it: Natalie had written a story at school today and her teacher had handed it to him. "It's a strange little story," the teacher had said, "but I thought you might like to read it."

_Drop Dead Fred. By Natalie_

_Once upon a time, twenty-one years ago, there was a little girl called Lizzie. Her best friend was a magic man called Drop Dead Fred. Everyone told her he wasn't real but he was. It was just that Lizzie was the only person who could see him._

_Lizzie and Drop Dead Fred had a lot of fun but Lizzie's mother was a Mega-Beast who didn't like Fred and didn't want Lizzie to have fun so she locked Drop Dead Fred away in a box and made sure he couldn't use magic to escape. He sat in the box for twenty-one years because Lizzie was too afraid of the Mega-Beast to try and rescue him._

_Lizzie grew up and got married but her husband was a bad man who did things with other girls behind Lizzie's back. Lizzie had forgotten about Fred but she went back to live at her mother's house because the Mega-Beast said so. That night she accidentally set Fred free from the box and he was really happy to see her again. Fred was so happy he wanted to return the favour and he said he'd help her get her husband back._

_But everyone else still couldn't see Drop Dead Fred so they sent Lizzie to see a bad man who killed magic men. The bad man gave her Green Pills that would kill Fred if she took them all so she ran away with Fred to go find Lizzie's husband. On the way they met Lizzie's old friend Mickey and he helped them escape so they could find Lizzie's husband. They went to meet him at a party._

_At the party Lizzie looked really pretty but Fred couldn't tell her because she still thought she was in love with her husband. Lizzie's husband thought she was pretty too and he decided to stay with her for a bit but Fred didn't like him. Lizzie's husband made her take the Green Pills and Fred nearly died. But then Fred found out that Lizzie's husband was still with the other girl and Fred decided to help Lizzie because she was scared to be alone. So Fred taught Lizzie how to stand up for herself._

_Then they were sad because Fred had to go and he didn't think he could stay with Lizzie but she gave him a kiss and that made him happy. Lizzie went back home and They told Fred he was allowed to stay with Lizzie because she loved him so he went to stay with her and when he did everyone could see him. They ran away to live with Mickey and his daughter and her friend Velcrohead who was also a magic man and they all lived happily ever after._

_The end._

On the back, Natalie had drawn five figures holding hands in crayon. One had red hair and shoes with a green suit; and he was holding hands with a dark-haired woman in a purple dress, who was holding hands with a person Mickey could tell (from the numerous drawings on the refrigerator) was him. The Mickey-drawing was holding hands with a little blonde girl, who was holding hands with Velcrohead (again, Mickey knew from the drawings on the refrigerator).

Mickey smiled to himself, making a mental note to get a frame for the story tomorrow so he could hang it on the wall. He liked it. It was sweet.

* * *

Lizzie was hit with a wave of nostalgia when she woke up the next morning. The actual term should have been "when she was _woken_ up the next morning", if she was honest with herself, because Fred was shaking her awake and calling out, "Lizzie! Get up Lizzie! Elizabeth! Snotface, wake _up_!"

Lizzie groaned and tried to hide under the bed sheets, but Fred pulled them away like an excitable kid and continued trying to shake her awake.

"What is it?" Lizzie asked when Fred had calmed down. His hands still gripped her shoulders.

"I don't know," he confessed cheerily. "I'm just in a really good mood!"

Grinning like an idiot, he jumped out of the bed and landed on the floor in his normal clothes, still smiling. He took a deep breath, exhaled happily and turned back to face Lizzie, who smiled up at him as the light from the overhead windows caught his hair and made it shine gold. Then she playfully rolled back over and tugged the bed sheets up over her head.

"Can't I just have a few more minutes?" she teased. Fred jumped back onto the bed again, landing next to her on his knees, and bounced the mattress up and down, pulling the bed sheets away again.

"Come on, Lizzie, get up! I don't wanna miss half the day again!"

Lizzie began to suspect that Fred's good mood had something to do with her very successful divorce. She found herself smiling when she thought the word. It didn't hurt any more. Maybe it was because Fred had helped her gain some confidence, or maybe it was because Fred's presence was so overpoweringly _Fred_ (there was no other word for it), but the sudden realisation that she was separated from Charles made _her_ happy, too.

Lizzie rolled onto her back and reached up to Fred's shoulders, to either calm him down or to steady him, although she couldn't say she knew which. He caught her wrists in the air and smiled; a happy but sober smile.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," Fred replied, a little too quickly.

"Fred, two seconds ago you were happier than a kid at Christmas. What's wrong?"

Fred turned his face away but kept his eyes locked on hers. "Nothing, Snotface. Really. I was just thinking how it's a good thing I came back _real_, because you can run away with an Imaginary Friend but it's hard to really have a _life_ with them."

"Fred, you never cared about that before you were real. You were my date to Charlie's wine gala and I was the only one who could see you. So stop _thinking_ and start being _you_ again."

Giving a mischievous grin, Fred gave a quick tug on both of Lizzie's wrists, pulling her up. While her was moving he let go of her arms and wrapped his arms around her waist, catching her lips with his just quickly before giving her a bit of a squeeze and dragging her out of bed by the arm. He bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen-diner with Lizzie in tow, not once pausing to catch his breath as he hollered a cheery good-morning to every object he spotted.

"Well," Mickey commented, "someone's in a good mood this morning."

"Got that right," Fred said happily.

Mickey was, once again, cooking breakfast for himself, Lizzie and Fred. Natalie was eating cereal, some of which was being subtly stolen by Velcrohead. At one point Velcrohead pulled Natalie's spoon back and flicked cereal at Lizzie and Fred; Mickey had his back to them so he didn't notice, but Fred picked the cereal off their faces to eat while Lizzie rolled her eyes.

"See, this is great," Fred said. Still in a good mood, of course. "There were never any proper meals like this with the Mega-Beast, were there, Snotface? It was all _Sit up straight, Eat your vegetables, Stop flicking snot in the coffee_. No life whatsoever with that woman."

Mickey thought of, but didn't mention, the story Natalie had written. Instead, he said, "I have to work late tonight and I won't be back until half-seven, so can I count on you and Velcrohead to be nice to Fred and Lizzie, Natalie? No starting any prank-wars, okay? I don't think the house would survive the first five minutes…"

Natalie and Velcrohead nodded.

"I'll pick you up after school in the convertible," Lizzie promised Natalie.

"Really? Can we ride with the top down?"

"Only if Fred doesn't try spitting at pedestrians again…"

"That was _one time_, Snotface!"

* * *

When Mickey had gone to work, Lizzie turned to Fred. "I've got an idea for a game."

"Sounds like fun." He suddenly adopted the snootiest accent he could muster. "So, shall we be clipping the flowers, vacuuming the floors or cleaning the windows?"

Lizzie laughed. Her mother had tried to convince her, as a child, that her chores were games. Or, at least, she would act as though they were.

"I meant a real game, Fred. To play with Natalie. You go tell Velcrohead and make him keep it a secret, and I'll go set it up."

"Okie dokie!"

Fred jumped into the air and dissipated into green light, which sped off in the direction the school bus had gone. Lizzie knew he didn't need to jump but his good mood was making him act a bit silly.

As he'd jumped, he knocked a bit of paper off the table. Lizzie picked it up, and read it over: it was a story Natalie had written about her and Fred. Briefly she wondered how Natalie had known some of the things in the story, like the Mega-Beast and Fred being locked away, and the Green Pills. Then she figured Fred and Velcrohead must have told her, and shrugged it off. She didn't really need to worry about these things any more.

Besides, it was her turn to start regaining her Fred-ness. She dressed quickly and headed out: first to the party store to buy some clothes and other things, then to a place she knew which hired out boats. She made a reservation with them and asked for a ride to a small stretch of beach hidden by rock. It was high tide and a working day, and hardly anybody came here, but it looked like a pirate cove. Quite far up the beach, she dug a small hole and prepared the game for later.

* * *

When Fred turned up at Natalie's school, he made sure only Velcrohead could see him, and sat on a table at the back of the room, watching as the class sat in a big circle on the floor, playing a game. Some kid said something to Natalie; she frowned. Velcrohead told her something and she laughed, making the kid throw her a confused look and then sulk. The teacher scolded the kid.

Velcrohead spotted Fred after a couple of minutes and told Natalie he'd be right back. Both Imaginary Friends moved to stand in the open doorway. Fred crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the door frame.

"How's it going?" Fred asked.

"Great," answered Velcrohead. "She doesn't have any friends yet but that'll change."

"Cool. Listen…" Fred lowered his voice, just in case Natalie heard him, although he doubted she would. "Lizzie's come up with a game to play after school."

"A game? Great!"

"Shh! It's a surprise. She wants to play pirates."

"Sounds fun."

"Yeah." Fred squinted at his friend. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just wondering if Natalie's gonna need me for long with you and Lizzie around."

"Hey, it's probably just temporary. And you said yourself that she hasn't got any friends at school. It looks like the other kids pick on her."

"Yeah, some of them."

"Then she'll need you for school anyway. You're her Imaginary Friend."

"Thanks, Fred. See you later."

"See you."

* * *

When Lizzie and Fred arrived at the school to pick Natalie up that afternoon, the teacher blinked at them a few times. "So _you're_ Lizzie and Fred," she said as Natalie ran up to Fred and Velcrohead started pulling faces and bad-mouthing some of the meaner kids. "Natalie's told us a lot about you. Fred, I hear you're good at magic tricks."

"Something like that," Lizzie said. Then she smirked. "Fred the magic man."

"I think we should get going," Fred said, feeling awkward. Some of the single mothers were giving him the same looks as the teenagers at the shopping mall. He wrapped an arm around Lizzie, holding her shoulder firmly, grabbed Natalie's hand, and steered them out of the schoolyard.

* * *

On the way back to the house, Natalie rode in the passengers' seat next to Lizzie, with Fred in the backseat behind Lizzie and Velcrohead in the back behind Natalie. So far, Fred wasn't spitting on any pedestrians: he was complaining.

"I don't like the looks girls keep giving me," Fred whined. "It's like being back in our world, remember, Velcrohead?"

"Aww, Fred, that's just cos they're so desperate," Velcrohead teased. Fred was leaning forward in his seat with an arm around Lizzie's shoulders so she could join the conversation. Everyone laughed.

* * *

When they got back to the house, Lizzie told Natalie to go watch TV for a bit and ran upstairs to the attic-room, where she changed into a blue pirate costume. When she left the room, Fred was back in his pirate costume and Velcrohead was wearing an orange pirate costume.

"Hey, Nat-flap!" Velcrohead said excitedly, standing in front of the TV. "Come on, we're gonna play pirates!"

"Real pirates?" Natalie gasped. Lizzie switched the television off and squatted down so they were at eye-level.

"Real pirates," she answered. "Look. I got you a pirate outfit!"

She produced a child's pirate costume. Natalie gasped in excitement and ran up to her room to get changed. As soon as she was back downstairs, Lizzie said, "Come on! Let's go!"

They literally jumped into the convertible. Lizzie and Natalie took their places in the front and Fred and Velcrohead took the seats behind them, Fred with his arm over Lizzie's shoulders again. It was a car-seating habit that would stick with them whenever they were in the car together.

* * *

When they arrived at the boat-hire place, Lizzie got into the motorboat she had hired out and took the controls. "Fred," she said, "have you got the map?"

"I gave it to Velcrohead," he shrugged.

"I put the map in Natalie's pocket when she wasn't looking," Velcrohead added.

Natalie felt around in her pocket for a scrap of paper which Lizzie had spent at least half an hour dressing up to look like an actual treasure map drawn on old parchment. Natalie gasped and her eyes lit up. "Is this a real treasure map?"

"A real treasure map for real treasure," Lizzie smiled. "See the big red X? That's where the treasure is."

"There's _really_ treasure? Like gold and stuff?"

"Of course there is," Velcrohead answered. "That's why it's _real_ pirates!"

When they arrived at the beach-cove, Lizzie gave Velcrohead and Natalie the map and told them to go find the treasure. The two of them hopped out of the boat, Velcrohead grabbing Natalie's wrist to keep her from being swept away because the water was up to _his_ waist, and waded up the beach to find the X.

Lizzie and Fred drove the boat a little further up the shore, until they felt the hull scrape gently against the sand; and then they climbed out and pulled it away from the water, to a spot where the sea couldn't wash it away. Velcrohead had produced two shovels from his long coat and he and Natalie were digging and throwing sand at each other. Lizzie worried that the cold sea water might give Natalie a cold but the sun was hot and she decided the clothes would probably dry out alright.

"You're not wearing any jewellery," Fred said suddenly. "Your rings are gone."

"Yep," Lizzie said brightly, giving a final heave and pulling the boat completely out of the water.

"We got it!" she suddenly heard Natalie cry in glee. "We got it! We got the treasure chest!"

"Come on," Lizzie said, grabbing Fred's hand and interlocking their fingers together. "Let's go."

They grinned briefly at each other and ran up the beach together.


	6. A Storm Comes

**A/N: sadly, I don't own **_**Drop Dead Fred**_**, which is a little disappointing. OH LOOK, THE PLOT'S STARTING! This could've been a longer chapter but I felt like it should be quite short**

**Saphirabrightscale: Thanks! I'll try!**

* * *

**Chapter Six: A Storm Comes**

Natalie and Velcrohead pulled the plastic treasure chest-like box out of the hole they'd dug in the sand. Velcrohead pretended to stagger in the goofiest way he could under the box's (lack of) weight and Natalie giggled, and turned to where Lizzie and Fred were pulling the boat up the beach. She was having loads of fun, and her damp clothes were keeping her cool. She imagined they were real pirates, and called out in her best pirate accent to tell Lizzie and Fred that they'd found the treasure chest.

Lizzie felt like a giddy teenager playing games with a favourite niece. Only this time the game was real. It was fun.

Fred kicked the sand back into the hole that had been dug to fill it in and squatted beside the other three, who knelt next to the box.

"Go on," Lizzie whispered to Natalie. All of them were grinning. "Open it."

Slowly, dramatically, Natalie opened the lid of the box and her face lit up. Literally. The sunlight reflected golden from the box's (somewhat sandy) contents and made everybody glow.

"Oh, _wow_!" Natalie gasped. "Look! Treasure! _Real_ treasure!"

Fred was smiling, half in happiness and half in confusion. All Lizzie's old jewellery was in that box. He wasn't completely sure what to make of it, but he decided to be happy, whatever her reason was. He reached over and gave her hand a squeeze, and grinned boyishly at her when she looked up.

"Let's take the whole box back home with us," Lizzie told Natalie. "And then you can pick out whatever you want to keep."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh." Now Lizzie adopted a fake pirate accent. "An' whatever ye don' wanna keep, we'll flog it for gold which we'll spend on grog an' rum."

Natalie, squealing with delight, shut the box and Velcrohead helped her to run back to the boat with it.

"You're pretty good at this," Fred admitted. "Congrats, Lizzie. You'd make a _great_ Imaginary Friend."

"I guess. But then I wouldn't get to see you as much, now would I?"

"Maybe not, but it'd be fun, right?"

"Right."

* * *

As they got back to the boat-rental place, a wind was picking up – probably for a storm – and the waves were getting pretty big, so Lizzie made sure Natalie got safely onto the dock first. She was the last one out.

Waves had washed over the dock already; that much was obvious because it was damp, but she didn't know just how damp it really _was_. As she was climbing out of the boat, one foot on the dock and one still in the boat, a huge gust of wind caught her as a large wave hit, and she slipped into the water. The last thing she felt was a sharp pain as she hit her head on the side of the boat, and everything went dark.

Fred knew something was wrong for three reasons: firstly, this didn't feel like an ordinary storm. Secondly, as soon as Lizzie was unconscious, the storm settled.

Well, okay, two reasons. He wasn't great at maths.

But he had to save Lizzie. Quickly, he tugged off his coat, handed it to Velcrohead and dived into the water after her.

As an Imaginary Friend, he didn't technically need to worry about breathing, so he didn't bother to hold his breath. The sun was out again, the waters calm and blue, and he spotted Lizzie quickly and struck out towards her. He was insanely, incredibly grateful that he'd acted so quickly: she was nearby and he reached her fast. Looping an arm under her armpits, he gave her a quick shake and cried: "Wake up, Lizzie!" to see if she would wake up. His voice came out thick and bubbly, a stream of bubbles shooting past his face and up to the surface, but Lizzie's eyelids flickered. He quickly followed the bubbles.

When their heads broke the surface, Fred spluttered and coughed out saltwater and Lizzie opened her eyes, gulping in air and twisting her body to look around and get her bearings. She was in the water, okay (apart from a splitting headache) and Fred had clearly pulled her up. With a cry of gratitude, she launched herself at a _very_ surprised Drop Dead Fred, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

* * *

When Mickey walked into his house, Natalie was in a pirate costume and rooting through a box of jewellery, chattering happily, and Fred and Lizzie were on the couch, wrapped thickly in towels and shivering. Lizzie's forehead was bandaged. He asked what had happened.

"Lizzie hit her head and fell in the ocean," Natalie explained, "and Fred jumped in and rescued her. Look, daddy, this is mine now!" She brandished a gold necklace at him.

"Well, thanks for that, Fred," Mickey said cheerfully. "I guess I'll go make dinner."

"Okay, no problem," Fred muttered thoughtfully. He was staring darkly at a random spot on the front door and seemed to be deep in thought. To Mickey – but especially Lizzie and Velcrohead, who knew him best – it was kinda… freaky.

"What's wrong, Fred?" Lizzie whispered in his ear, nudging him a little with her elbow.

"Nothing," he said. Then he snapped out of it. "Hey Snotface, your hair looks all like seaweed!"

They laughed.

* * *

It was late when Fred got to sleep that night. Well, early. About five in the morning, actually. Everyone else had fallen asleep by eleven.

He lay in his pyjamas, with his shirt thrown to one side (it was hot and muggy that night) on his back, staring up at the stars through the overhead window. His hands were thoughtfully clasped behind his head and Lizzie was curled up against him. He'd been sweltering under the bed sheets and had gratefully relinquished them to Lizzie, who was wrapped in them like a cocoon all the way up to her armpits.

Moonlight hit his face and body, dying his skin silver and his eyes an inky colour. His hair turned from almost orange to burgundy, his bright yellow pyjama bottoms almost platinum.

Fred was worrying about the storm; about what could have caused it. He drew no conclusions other than someone, or some_thing_, very powerful.

Finally he allowed himself to fall asleep.


	7. Flying Penguins

**A/N: I still don't own **_**Drop Dead Fred**_**, but at least I've got my fanfic**

**Saphirabrightscale: Will do!**

**Astra Fairoza x: The joys indeed. And your story is awesome. I RECOMMEND THIS GIRL'S STORY, PEOPLE!**

**Shout-out to Astra Fairoza x, who came up with the zoo idea and some stuff for the plot. If anybody else has any ideas, either for random activities for the characters to do or for anything else to do with the story, tell me via review or PM! Thanks!**

**Also, there's a Russell Howard's Good News reference in here. I like this chapter and I wanted to make it a bit longer, but I wasn't totally sure how to finish it. I think the ending I've got is alright, though**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Flying Penguins**

Lizzie was woken up by distressed noises that sounded like someone was having a nightmare. She knew her first instinct should be to think it was Natalie, but instead her first thought was: _Fred_.

He lay next to her, frowning and groaning in his sleep, occasionally letting out a muffled, strangled scream. When he screamed he thrashed as well and for a while all Lizzie could do was stare in fear. She felt guilty because she couldn't talk herself into moving; she kept thinking she'd move, and then thinking that maybe she should wait a couple of minutes to see if he'd calm down on her own.

Lizzie's fear stemmed from the fact that she'd only seen Fred have a nightmare once before, after one of _those_ mornings. It had scared her then, too, but he'd woken himself up pretty quickly and hugged her like he was afraid for her. Later, he'd explained that he'd had a very bad dream where her parents' fight had turned violent and he couldn't help her.

"But that's how you know it's just a dream," she'd told him. "You help me all the time. You're Fred. It's what you do."

He hadn't had any more nightmares after that, as far as she knew, until tonight.

Guilt drove tears to her eyes and pushed them to brim over. He'd rescued her when she fell out the boat but she couldn't bring herself to rescue him from his nightmare. Perhaps it was easier to save someone when the danger was physical, something you could see.

Fred screamed for real now and Lizzie dove into action. She all but attacked him, springing over to his side of the bed and shaking him violently by the shoulders, telling him to wake up. When he did, he had developed a layer of cold sweat and was panting heavily. Lizzie backed off, ashamed at how long it had taken her to act.

"Hey," Fred said, peering nervously at her. "Something wrong?"

Lizzie couldn't answer. She just sat there. Fred wrapped his arms around her, cradled her, rocked her gently as though _she_ had been having the nightmare.

"Don't worry, Lizzie," he whispered soothingly to her. "You'll be fine. Everything's gonna be okay. Thanks for waking me up."

"We're best friends, aren't we, Fred?" Lizzie asked.

"'course we are, Snotface." He kissed her forehead.

"So you can tell me anything, right?"

Fred paused. "What are you getting at?"

"Fred, _please_ tell me if something's wrong." Lizzie _was_ begging, but she sounded more like she was begging than she'd intended. "If something's scaring or upsetting or worrying you, I want to know."

"There are some things you might prefer not to know about," Fred muttered, so quietly that Lizzie almost didn't hear him. "Besides, I haven't figured it out completely yet."

"I could help –"

"No. I'm sorry Lizzie, but this is Imaginary Friend stuff. Harder for humans to understand."

"Wish I wasn't human," Lizzie mumbled into Fred's collarbone. He laughed a bit.

"No you don't. Look: it's Saturday. Let's think up something fun to do."

Normally it was Fred with the short attention span, but today he was successfully able to distract Lizzie with just one sentence.

"I'm gonna sell the jewellery Natalie didn't want and stick the money in the bank. Then we could go to the zoo."

"The _zoo_?"

Lizzie gave her best impression of a Drop Dead Fred grin. "I've always wanted to see a flying penguin."

Fred gasped and hugged her. "Snotface, you're a genius!"

* * *

Fred turned himself invisible so he could get into the zoo for free. _This_ was why Lizzie's favourite superpower was invisibility. That and – she may have been spending too much time with Fred, although she doubted there was such a thing – she'd been thinking up some rather _brilliant_ pranks she could pull off if she were invisible.

Natalie loved the zoo so she and Velcrohead tagged along, and Mickey decided to join them as the voice of reason. He didn't think it was a very good idea to leave two Imaginary Friends on their own: mix in the facts that Lizzie and Natalie were with them, and all four were amazing pranksters, and you had a potential recipe for disaster.

Fred headed immediately for the penguins and the others had to pull him back, telling him to wait a while before he went to teach the penguins how to fly. So he grumbled and pulled faces at the monkeys. Lizzie told him it must be like looking in a mirror.

Natalie wanted to see the fish and the sharks, so they went there next. Five minutes in, Fred disappeared, and when Lizzie spotted him again, he was in the tank with the fish, pulling faces at people on the outside. Lizzie realised most people probably didn't see him, but maybe they thought they saw the reflection of a young man's face in the glass. She got quite a few odd stares when she started laughing, though.

Then they went to see the lions and tigers. In both habitats, Fred decided to play a couple of games with the animals and in both habitats, he got chased. He did the same with the rhinos and had to climb up a tree, clinging onto the branch for ten whole minutes before a zookeeper came to subdue the rhino who, as far as everyone else knew, had developed an unusual fascination with an ordinary tree branch.

Finally they decided to let Fred wind people up in the penguin habitat. It was an outdoor one so all Fred had to do, invisible still, was climb over a thick half-wall. He landed in the water with a big splash which everyone else seemingly either ignored, or passed off as one of the penguins diving into the water.

The water was freezing but it didn't affect him very much. He half-waded, half-swam through the water and reached the slippery rock on which the penguins stood. He was young, and therefore agile; and also an Imaginary Friend, which in itself granted him some decent powers and agility; so he jumped onto the rocky surface without sliding and straightened up.

Some of the penguins appeared to be looking at him, but he didn't care. Animals could tell he was there even when he was invisible. He walked up to the nearest one, grabbed it and picked it up. He started to fly it around and laughed when everyone started throwing the penguin puzzled looks. This was possibly one of the most fun things he'd done while using his invisibility to his advantage.

Normally, the fact that they could only be seen by their charge presented a huge problem to an Imaginary Friend, its only redeeming quality being that it was almost impossible to separate a Friend and their charge against their wills (the Green Pill saw to that, but that _thing_ was essentially a murder weapon).

Occasionally, however, it came as an advantage; and now was one of those brilliant occasions. Only when she was a child, and after she'd left Charles, had Fred seen Lizzie laugh as hard as she had done today.

Finally people with cameras from newspapers and the like showed up, and Fred figured he'd better put the penguin down. Let him enjoy his momentary fame but not for long enough for everyone to pester him forever. Fred climbed back out of the habitat. Everyone was talking.

"…you see that?"

"…d'you think it was…"

"…no, Charlie, I…"

"… that was incredible!"

"Fred!"

He heard Lizzie calling through the crowd. He turned round to see her jumping up over the bobbing heads and waving her arms at him. Quickly becoming visible again in the commotion, he slipped between confused and buzzing spectators and ran over to her.

"I think you had a bit _too_ much fun with that," she giggled, hugging him. Fred hugged her back and felt a raindrop land on his cheek.

"No such thing as too much fun, Snotface. Where's the others gone?"

"Natalie laughed so hard she pulled a muscle so they went to go look at some of the other animals," Lizzie answered, a hand covering her mouth as she tried unsuccessfully not to giggle. "Let's go find them and get in, out of the rain."

"Okay," Fred replied. "Let's go."

* * *

The rain, which had started out as a light drizzle, quickly picked up as the five of them began to leave. The ground became slippery and the rain was freezing. Fred was reminded of British rain, the type that went straight through you, soaked you to the bone, froze you solid… but it was oh so pleasant getting home, curling up in front of a movie, in your pyjamas on the sofa with your family, hair dripping and looking like a pet shop display of drowned rats.

Leaving the others on the sidewalk, Mickey decided to make a run for the car and pick them up. They watched him until he vanished into the rain and then stood and waited. Fred wrapped an arm protectively around Lizzie's shoulders. They started to shiver a bit and Velcrohead pulled a thick purple child's coat out from behind his back for Natalie, to keep her warm and somewhat dry.

"This is really boring," Natalie complained in a whisper.

"Think how that no-brain Nathan would feel if he was stuck in one of the cages," Velcrohead told her, and they started to laugh. Fred gathered that this Nathan kid was someone who picked on Natalie at school.

It was still light out but the sky was dark grey and the heavy rain was kicking up a thick fog and turning the road slick and wet. They were surprised when a pair of headlights lit up the road, and all four looked up to see if it was Mickey, but no: a silver sports car was gaining on them quickly.

Too quickly.

Was it out of control? Fred wasn't sure but the rain on the roads was making it too slippery for the car to brake.

_It mounted the pavement._

Velcrohead and Natalie stood back but the car wasn't coming for them. It was swerving to deliberately hit Lizzie. Fred dove to knock the two of them out the way just as the car raced through the spot where she had been. Lizzie landed on her back with a grunt of mild pain and Fred landed with his head against her chest, where he could hear her heart beat erratically.

He clung to her. There was no question to him now. Someone was out to get Lizzie.

Fred tightened his hold on her.

The pair pulled themselves off the ground as the headlights of Mickey's truck lit up the road and the rain slowed down, back to a light drizzle. Fred and Lizzie were drenched, but at least the car hadn't hit her. Fred didn't know if Mickey had seen the car, and he didn't care. He just held onto Lizzie protectively, as though such a simple action could keep her safe forever.

He refused to let go of her again that night.


	8. Force Field

**A/N: Hey guys, I've figured out the ending to this **_**Drop Dead Fred**_** fanfic and I'm thinking on doing a sequel, just to let you know**

**Zombierose3: thanks so much! I love the romantic salad part, too**

**Let's see how many people can guess what show Natalie's watching… free virtual cookies for any successful guessers!**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Force Field**

Lizzie was pleased, when she woke up the next morning, to find Fred fast asleep next to her, and partially see-through. It meant that he was tired and needed to recharge, which in turn meant that he was out cold. Much as she liked to be with him, he had been so overprotective the night before that she had almost tried to signal Mickey to hit Fred over the head with a frying pan and knock him out. When it was time to go to bed, she'd tried to distract him with the promise of sex but he wasn't in the mood, so she'd given up.

Lizzie grabbed her towel and decided to take a shower.

The hot water hit her naked body and warmed it up beautifully, but it was a little too hot and she jumped out, reaching back in to adjust the temperature to a reasonable level before she got back into the shower.

As she began to shampoo her hair, Lizzie's mind wondered back to Fred. There was something on his mind and she wanted to know what. If she looked at his behaviour, and then the –

Oh God. The storm. The car. Then Fred refusing to let go of her all night except from when she had to change her clothes or go to the bathroom. He must think she was in danger.

But… it made no sense to her. Why would she be in danger? Surely she didn't know anybody who could be out to get her. And even if she did, they couldn't be powerful enough to cause a storm and then a car accident, right? No. Of course not. Fred was just overreacting. He had a tendency to do that sometimes.

Lizzie finished washing the shampoo out of her hair, shut the shower off, wrapped a towel around her body and another around her hair, and threw the window open to get rid of the steam. The most Unamused look possible crossed her face.

_What. The. Hell._

She swore she could see – or imagine, or understand, or whatever – a shimmering, rippling border around the property. It sprung up from the ground at the very edges like almost transparent, slow, blue fire. She bet it had something to do with Fred being so drained.

_Dammit, Fred,_ she thought, _what the hell are you up to?_

As Lizzie dressed into a pair of striped (white and green, of course) pyjamas and a golden-brown robe, she jumped, hearing a sound from below her. After a moment she realised it was the television: Natalie must be up.

And that meant that Velcrohead would be up, too. Maybe he'd know what was up with Fred.

"Natalie?" Lizzie called softly as she headed downstairs. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, okay. Can we wait for commercials first?" Natalie was sitting on the couch, eating cereal and watching cartoons. Lizzie couldn't see Velcrohead but that weird maybe-knowing-maybe-seeing-maybe-understanding feeling told her he was perched on the armrest next to Natalie. It could just be that there was a crease in the armrest like somebody was sitting there.

Lizzie waited patiently for the commercials. Natalie was watching a show that was getting quite old now, about a young girl whose best friend was a poltergeist with an unusual name. The way they interacted reminded her of herself and Fred, and she soon found herself joining Natalie in eating breakfast on the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

Jeez, she missed being a kid. Fighting off the Mega-Beast with her best friend, Drop Dead Fred. Hiding the gladiolas, to which her mother never believed she was allergic. And, of course, pulling pranks and burglarising the house.

She was so wrapped up in her memories that she nearly forgot about asking Natalie her questions during the commercial break.

"Natalie, if I ask Velcrohead some questions, could you tell me what he says?"

"Okay," Natalie smiled.

Lizzie looked to where she maybe-knew-maybe-saw-maybe-understood Velcrohead was. "I know Fred thinks someone's out to get me," she stated. "But why's he acting… wrong?"

There was a pause. Then, Natalie said, "He says Fred overreacts sometimes but he wants to keep you safe. He turned real so he could stay with you and he doesn't want to lose you."

Lizzie felt a smile pull at the corners of her mouth. She knew Fred could be a drama queen sometimes but the ability to be thoughtful wasn't totally beyond him. It was totally un-Fred-like and made her question his (already questionable) sanity, but there was something about him which made it seem normal for him.

"Fred put up a force field around the house, didn't he?" Lizzie asked.

"A _force field_?" Natalie asked, voice full of awe. She ran to the window. "Hey… I don't see anything."

"You _don't_?"

"Nope, not a sausage… how come you can? Is it cos Fred's _your_ Imaginary Friend?"

"I don't know," Lizzie said honestly.

"He did," said a voice Lizzie recognised as Velcrohead's. She thought she heard it, but she couldn't tell; she could only respond:

"Huh?"

"The force field."

Lizzie blinked. That wasn't right. Was it? She was certain she couldn't hear or see Velcrohead. But at the same time, she was certain that she _could_. Somehow it all made sense. She decided Fred might have something to do with it.

_Shrug it off. It's okay. Nothing to worry about. It's just the sort of thing that happens when Fred's around, after all._

* * *

A long time ago, in a house far, far away – the Mega Beast's house – there was a lonely little girl called Elizabeth Cronin. She was a sweet little girl, but she was desperately lonely, and her mother, the Mega Beast, was always arguing with her father and calling her mean things. And because Elizabeth had no friends, she didn't know anything other than loneliness and being told off and called names.

Then one day when she was getting dressed in her bedroom, doing up the last button on the long dress her mother had given her, she saw something in her mirror that made her pause. It looked like a group of green sparks, but they were floating, and there weren't any green fires around. They floated together in front of her bedroom window and when she turned around to get a better look, she thought they were beautiful.

Maybe they were fairies, like in the books her mother would read to her sometimes.

"Hello?" Elizabeth asked quietly. If she had any friends, she would've rushed off to tell them!

As Elizabeth spoke, the green sparks grouped together where they formed the shape of a man, and then she said hello again, and the green sparks turned _into_ a man. A crazy-looking man, with wild red hair and wild blue eyes and the coolest suit she'd ever seen. And bright red shoes.

"Who are you?" Elizabeth asked. Her mother had told her not to talk to strangers, and the man was definitely strange, but something in the back of her mind told her she knew him. The man, who'd been looking around the room, smiled at her.

"I'm Drop Dead Fred," he announced proudly. "And you're Elizabeth Cronin."

Elizabeth stared at the man in awe. Suddenly, multitudes of questions rushed into her mind, begging to be answered. "Are you a wizard? Why's your name Drop Dead Fred? How'd you know my name?"

"Calm down, calm down," Drop Dead Fred told her. "Sit down or something and I'll tell you."

Elizabeth Cronin sat on her bed and Drop Dead Fred sat at the foot of it and said, "I'm your Imaginary Friend, that's how I know your name. I'm here to be your bestest friend in the whole world!"

"_Really_? I never had any friends before!"

"Really."

"And we'll be best friends forever?"

"Okay."

"Promise?" Elizabeth Cronin asked stubbornly.

Drop Dead Fred smiled again and extended his pinkie finger. "I promise."

They swore on it and that was that.

* * *

Fred liked to dream. His favourites were old memories, the good ones, because he liked to relive his happiest moments. When he first met Elizabeth Cronin, she was nervous, terrified of her mother, and desperate for companionship. He'd helped her with that, because it was his job. He was Fred, after all.

He drifted through what started off as the clouds in the sky, then became the ocean, and then finally a field with the bluest sky and the greenest grass he'd ever seen. He'd revisit more memories soon, but he'd just realised something:

Normally he could have zapped himself straight out of the Jack-in-the-Box as soon as Lizzie forgot about him, as soon as she moved on, but he couldn't after he was locked away by Polly Cronin.

And then Lizzie had rescued him. Coincidence? Almost definitely not.

It was the reason why he'd been forced to stay; why Lizzie had rescued him (even if that rescue was a bit late) and probably also the reason why he cared about her so much, never left her behind and always looked after her. Maybe even the reason he'd been able to become real (They usually didn't do that except for in special cases).

It was because he'd promised to be Lizzie's best friend. Forever.

And that was a promise he'd been determined to keep.

Forgetting about thinking, his mind wondering across the field, he suddenly dropped off a cliff and fell – literally – into another memory, now from a time with an earlier charge and one of his personal favourite pranks, although unfortunately several of the items he'd used weren't in production any longer and so the prank would be nearly impossible to duplicate.

* * *

Lizzie and Natalie turned to each other and tried not to laugh when they heard a scream and a thump from above them. It sounded like Fred had tried to get up but fallen out of bed. He appeared in the kitchen next to them, rubbing the side of his face, which had been squashed flat when he'd fallen down.

"It's not easy, remembering how to get up in the morning," he complained. "I usually find myself so comfortable that I forget."

Lizzie grinned. "Sleep well?"

"Very."

Natalie was colouring while Lizzie drew several sketches. Fred looked at them over her shoulder and said, "Hey, Snotface, these are pretty good."

"Thanks," Lizzie smiled. "I think Natalie's better, though."

Her mother had always put down anything she did well or found herself particularly proud of, and Fred couldn't tell if she was saying Natalie's drawings were better to make Natalie happy or if it was a lingering after-effect of her mother's unfair treatment of her.

"So, Fred," Lizzie asked, "why the force field around the house?"

Oh yeah. He'd forgotten about that. He shrugged. "Just a precaution, Snotface. Keep anything nasty away. Although usually they can't use magic on your home or get in unless they're invited. But, y'know, as this is probably all just temporary I thought it might be safer to –"

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that, too." Lizzie was sketching out another drawing. "I bet you think the storm and the car weren't just coincidence, huh?"

Fred glanced at Velcrohead for help. Nothing. Just a hand signal which read, "Tell her the truth, you idiot." And a rather rude word he didn't want to repeat, even in his mind.

"No, I reckon they weren't," he confessed. "You're right, I think something's up."

"You want to tell me what?"

"I don't know what. Something powerful. And that's it." Fred frowned. "If I knew what was going on, I could actually do something."

"Fred's very powerful," Velcrohead explained ad Fred sat down next to Lizzie and put his arm around her shoulders. "One of the most powerful Imaginary Friends since ever."

"One of," Fred pointed out. He still seemed proud of himself for being some all-powerful being.

There was a silence in which Lizzie and Natalie continued to draw, and when Lizzie looked up, Fred and Velcrohead were staring intently at each other in a dramatic and overdone way, as though they were having a conversation inside their heads.

"Okay, I give up," Lizzie said, after several minutes of this. "What's going on?"

Fred and Velcrohead gave each other quick glances and nodded. "We want to figure it out quickly," Fred told her. "So… we're going to take you to our world."


	9. Drop Dead Fred's World

**A/N: Hi there, readers! I can't believe this **_**Drop Dead Fred**_** fanfic is on its ninth chapter already… we're in Fred's world this time, and I'm hoping to also add lots of flashbacks to the story**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Drop Dead Fred's World**

"Fred?"

"Yes, Snotface?"

"Where _is_ the world where you come from?"

Fred looked at the little girl lying in the bed next to him. Her eyes were large but tired, and it wasn't even midday yet. Luckily for him, Lizzie's mother never gave her the sort of cold medicine that makes you go to sleep when you take it. He got cabin fever whenever a charge was ill and took medicine like that.

Much as he preferred her to be healthy, Fred had to admit that he liked it when she was sick, too. She was the only person he knew who actually tried to have _fun_ with it. Between their childish minds they developed images of mutated once-colds which they controlled and used to attack the Mega-Beast, or a who-could-do-the-best-sneeze contest, or a who-could-blow-the-most-snot-in-one-go contest, or even a stickiest-bogey contest (although that one was a bit trickier than the others).

He had told Lizzie many stories, mostly fairy tales, from his world. He told her the stories every time she asked, and sometimes when she didn't ask; mostly when her parents were fighting, but also when she was sick and before she went to bed. He'd told her enough stories enough times to know all her favourites and all the ones she didn't like.

But she'd never asked him this question before.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because all those stories are amazing, Fred! I'd like to go there one day." Lizzie coughed a bit and stared up at him expectantly. Fred wondered how much he could tell her, if she actually _could_ go there one day, then realised it didn't matter because there were no laws against that sort of thing: it just didn't happen very often.

"It's just the place where Imaginary Friends come from," he said. "It's the place where we live."

"But you live with me," Lizzie pointed out.

"I didn't used to," Fred replied. "I used to live in the world I come from, but then I came here to be your bestest friend."

"My _best_ bestest friend!"

"That's right!" Fred gave Lizzie a one-armed hug.

"Will you tell me another fairy tale?" She gave him her biggest, most pleading puppy-dog eyes look.

"Okay." Fred got himself seated comfortably on Lizzie's bed, settling down to tell her a story. She'd probably fall asleep halfway through but that was okay; he was planning a prank to play on the Mega-Beast for leaving a sick little girl all "alone" in a big house when she needed someone to look after her (Polly Cronin firmly didn't believe in him). "Alright, Snotface? Once upon a time, there was this really cool prince, but his parents wanted him to get _married_…"

* * *

Fred smiled fondly at the portrait he was staring at. He hadn't been to this house in years, which was weird because it was _his_ house.

…then again, he'd been locked in a box for twenty-one years, and he rarely visited his house between charges anyway. He'd almost forgotten about it.

Lizzie and Natalie stared around in wonder. Fred's house didn't look like much from the outside, except that it was all in bright, vibrant colours which looked like they'd been done in crayon. Inside, the house seemed huge and full of brightly-coloured things. They were only in the living room so far but it was probably as big as the apartment Lizzie had lived in with Charles. The sofa was bright red, the coffee table blue, the walls yellow and the floor green.

Lizzie spotted a purple bookshelf and began searching for something which might help Fred and Velcrohead, but she quickly became distracted when she found a book full of the fairy tales Fred used to tell her. Of course, he told them a little differently to how they were in the book, and she slightly preferred his version because he always made comments and jokes that made her laugh, but the pictures were beautiful.

"Velcrohead?" she asked; he looked around. She could see him in this world without Fred's help. He'd told her there might be some side-effects.

"Yes?"

"Could you read some of these to Natalie while I help Fred?"

Velcrohead took the book from her in a rather sedated way, then threw himself very literally onto the sofa and called Natalie over to read. They read quietly so as not to distract Fred and Lizzie if they found anything important, but occasionally let out a loud burst of laughter.

Lizzie snuck up on Fred, who was smiling as he stared at a portrait – the one which matched the illustration from the book of his favourite story. She could tell it was his favourite, because he was always more animated when he told it than he was with the others. When he told her the other stories, he usually just sat or stood there, occasionally acting over-dramatically; but with his favourite story he always jumped around the room, acting out every scene himself, occasionally with Lizzie's help.

The portrait showed two people, a young man and a young woman. The young man lounged on a dark golden throne, one leg across the armrest to the right of the portrait, the other leg curled up underneath him and his back pressed against the opposite armrest. The young woman knelt in front of the throne, leaning back against the young man, who had one of his arms draped over her shoulder as he toyed with a strand of her hair. The man's other hand held a book open in his lap and the woman's hands were clasped around the hilt of a sword which, in the story, belonged to her dead fiancée.

Lizzie understood why Fred liked the story now: the young man looked rather like him. The suit was smarter and royal purple, the red hair was neater, the skin pale and freckled and the eyes bright green, but the young man in the portrait was tall and thin, his red hair about the same length as Fred's and a pair of red shoes on his feet. The young woman, Lizzie noted, was pale and beautiful, with a long blue dress and long dark hair.

"Where'd you get that portrait from?" Lizzie asked quietly, making Fred jump. Then he looked at her and smiled again.

"I Imagined it," he answered. "This is the world where Imaginary Friends live, remember. Imagination here is like going out and buying something where you live."

"That's so cool," Lizzie said. The explanation made sense. The house was so _Fred_ that its design could only have come from his mind.

"Do you want to know what it reminds me of?"

"The portrait?"

"Uh-huh." Fred took Lizzie's left hand in both of his and returned his gaze to the portrait. Lizzie gave his hand a squeeze and followed his stare.

Suddenly the image rippled and changed, making her gasp and squeeze his hand just a bit tighter. Then she smiled.

The portrait was suddenly of her and Fred, when she was little. Fred was stretched out on her bed, propped up by the headboard. Lizzie herself clutched her favourite teddy bear and was curled up against Fred's side, staring up at him in awe as he told her a fairy tale from his world, cuddling her gently and stroking her hair comfortingly. The portrait was so well-detailed, Lizzie could even see the tear-tracks on her own face, the slight red puffiness around her eyes, and recognised it as one of _those_ _nights_, the nights which preceded _those_ _mornings_. She could almost hear the muffled yells as her parents fought in the background.

Fred gave her hand another squeeze and the painting turned back into the illustration of the fairy story. Lizzie laughed.

"I remember when I was little, if my mother made me stay in my room alone I used to pretend I was a princess trapped by a wicked witch and you were the brave knight coming to rescue me," she confessed. "I never told you because I know you don't like those stories and I used to worry you might think I was being a complete and total girl."

Fred smiled fondly. "But Lizzie, you _are_ a complete and total girl! You'd be a _boy_ otherwise!"

Lizzie laughed and hugged Fred. Then she said, "We'd better get to work."

She didn't bother to worry about Mickey noticing they were gone. According to Fred and Velcrohead, time worked differently here. They could be in this world for days and get back to their own world to find it had only been a few hours. Maybe even minutes. Besides, she'd written Mickey a note, just in case.

* * *

Polly Cronin sat in her kitchen-diner and stared out the window at the garden she had just finished tending. She was proud of it. It looked good. _Very_ good. She was proud of it, but there was no-one to share it with, which disappointed her to some extent.

Lizzie had been right, she thought suddenly; a thought which surprised her but also made sense. Getting a friend would be good. Getting a _real_ friend would be better.

The phone rang. She picked it up. "Hello?"

"Polly," said the man at the other end of the line, "do you know where Lizzie and Drop Dead Fred are?"

"No. I haven't heard from Lizzie in days, but I imagine Drop Dead Fred is with her," Polly replied tersely. "Why?"

"I can't put a trace on them."

"Why don't you just leave them alone?"

"Because."

"Because what? I'm not helping you any longer. Not if you won't explain anything."

Silence. Then:

"I'm coming over."

"Do that, and I swear I'll tear you apart."

"Point taken. Another time, then."

Polly rang off, swore and headed to her liquor cabinet. Friends might be a good idea, but right now, what she really needed was a _drink_.

* * *

"Find anything?" Velcrohead asked, as Lizzie disappointedly put away the last book from the shelf. She and Fred had scanned through each one. It had been so long that Natalie had fallen asleep leaning on Velcrohead.

"No," she replied. "Maybe you should take Natalie home."

"Sure, okay."

Velcrohead and Natalie disappeared in a swirl of orange.

"Maybe you should head home too, Snotface," Fred said. "It'll be ages before I find anything. I've got to check the library next."

Lizzie snorted. "You have a _library_ in your house?"

"Hard as it is to believe, I've always liked the look of those fancy old-fashioned libraries. You know – like the one in _Beauty and the Beast_. I may not read much, Lizzie, but why does your mother have a drawing room in her house if she never draws anything?"

Lizzie refused to argue with Fred's childlike logic. There was just no point. She didn't want to explain what a drawing room _really_ was; she wanted to explore Drop Dead Fred's house. It sounded like fun.

"There's a quick way and a long way to get around this house," Fred told her. "The long way is to walk around it – you turn the doorknob left to do that."

He turned the knob of the door out of the living room, opposite his front door, to the left and pushed it open. The light spilled into a multicoloured corridor. Then he closed the door again.

"The quick way," he said, "is to picture the place in your mind and turn the knob to the right. It's called Imagining yourself to a place."

He turned the doorknob to the right and when he opened the door, he stepped through and Lizzie followed him into a library which looked _exactly_ like the one in _Beauty and the Beast_.

"Fred…"

"Yes?"

"Why would you ever _leave_ a place like this?"

"Being an Imaginary Friend binds you to certain obligations, which means you – can I start over, Snotface? I don't understand a word I just said."

Lizzie giggled. "I think you mean, when you're an Imaginary Friend, you don't have a choice."

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"But now…?"

"I think I've got a choice this time."

Lizzie smiled. "Where do we start?"

"Over here."

Fred lead Lizzie into a corner of the library, filled with ancient-looking books that Lizzie didn't want to touch for fear that she might cause them to crumble.

"Older, less fun-looking books usually have more useful stuff," Fred told her. "At least there should be something that'll help us figure out what's after you."

He kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Thanks Fred," she whispered, smiling, and they got to work.

* * *

Polly Cronin was torn. Ever since the phone call, she'd been debating with herself. Should she call Lizzie? She knew Lizzie was staying with Mickey Bunce. Maybe it would be a good idea to warn her. Perhaps there was some way to make things up for being such a terrible mother.

Huh. Where'd that come from? Being on her own, she decided, must be making her sentimental.

But even if having a child had only been an attempt (which failed anyway) to save her marriage, Lizzie was still _her_ child. It was unfair to let her child be put in danger. Maybe she should do something about it. She picked up the phone and dialled.

* * *

Exhausted after searching every book that promised to hold anything useful, Fred and Lizzie returned to Lizzie's world. It was late afternoon now but they had been gone a few days. Lizzie had loved Fred's house but it was good, too, to be back in her own world.

"There you are," Mickey said. "You've had two phone calls. Your mother wanted to speak to you directly and wouldn't let me take a message, and Annabella called, too. She said something about going to lunch some time."

"Oh – yes," Lizzie replied. "We wanted to make plans to go out to lunch this week."

"I told them both I'd get you to call them back."

"Thank you."

Lizzie spoke with Annabella first and they agreed to meet up at one the next day; and then she phoned her mother.

"I can't tell you over the phone," Polly Cronin said. She sounded worried. "I need to tell you this in person. Come over here as soon as you possibly can."

Lizzie was tired and needed some real rest, so she said, "I'm going out to lunch at one tomorrow, mother. I'll meet you after that."

"Why then? Why not now?"

Lizzie pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes and leaned against Fred, who wrapped his arms around her to keep her standing upright. "I'm exhausted, mother," she replied. "I need some sleep."

A pause. Then: "Lizzie?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

When she was little, Mickey and Fred were probably Lizzie's only friends. She knew that and so did everyone else. She never had anyone she could arrange to go and meet for lunch other than Janey, because Mickey and Fred were taken from her when she was young.

The excitement of arranging to meet up with someone still lingered sometimes, and Lizzie felt the same way now. She refused to allow Fred to come with her, so he returned to his world to do some further research; but not before presenting her with a small silver ring.

"Keep it on," he said, "and if you need me or want me to come back then call my full name and I'll be able to hear you."

"What is it?" Lizzie asked.

"Sometimes – not a lot, but sometimes – Imaginary Friends need to go back to their world while they're still with their charges. Those rings are used in case something happens that an Imaginary Friend needs to know about."

"I think that makes sense."

Fred smiled. "Well, it's something like that. See you later, Snotface."

He kissed her goodbye and then left for his world.

"Bye," Lizzie called to Mickey and Natalie (Natalie's school was closed that day).

"Bye," they called back. And then there was something which surprised her.

"Bye," _Velcrohead_ called. She could hear him clearly, plain as anything, and she thought she could _see_ him sitting next to Natalie, too. She blinked, thinking it might be her eyes playing tricks on her, but he was still there, watching the television and plotting against some of the kids at school with Natalie.

Lizzie's left hand went to her right, her fingers running over the ring Fred had given her. _Must be the ring,_ she thought.

_Or one of those side-effects of going to their world,_ a small voice in the back of her mind told her smartly. She ignored it and left.


End file.
